In Blended Pursuit

Today I did a very grown up thing.

Today I welcomed myself into the twentieth century.

(Yes, I said twentieth century.)

Really, I welcomed myself into the 1920s.

(Yes, I had to Google the year the blender was invented.  1922, if your curiosity is just burning...)

Today: I bought a blender.

The times I ever do anything "grown up" are typically when my desire to consume something delicious outweighs my ability to deflect the craving any longer.  This is the only method by which I learned to cook.  Shit dammit frick.  I want [insert amazing delectable dish], just like Mom makes... 

With The Method, I've become especially proficient at Breakfast: An Adventure in Baconology, and moderately proficient in Sides: Excerpts from Coleslaw, Deviled Eggs, & Salad Dressings. 

Anyway, back to the blender.  So I went for a four-mile run (jog) tonight and it felt amazing!  I'm gradually working up to where I was before the car accident.  I'm close, and I'm patient.  The process is fairly exhilarating.

When I got home I was completely spent and all I wanted in the world was a fruit smoothie.  Nowhere near my house is a place to get a smoothie (plus I already spent way too much money for twelve ounces of smoothie earlier in the afternoon and for whatever reason my mind would not allow a similar purchase twice in one day.

(I know, weirdo.)

I also think the process of making a smoothie also seemed rather desirable on this particular eve, so a purchase of said blender emerged as a logical pursuit.

I came.

I blended.

I conquered.

Hallo, Beauty.

As I Say: It's Never Too Late

I finally -- FINALLY -- completed a fairly simple project that I've putting off for just about forever: buying a large piece of wood to use as a surface to tack loose canvas and paper to, so I don't wreck the walls in my apartment.  I know -- I, too, cannot believe it took me this long...

 

Who doesn't love BIG STIFF WOOD?

 

And because the only place for the wood to go is where the piano was previously housed, le sweet piano then had nowhere to live.  Solution?  She is now in the boudoir, and along with some very thoughtful and careful rearranging turned my previously lackluster bedside table situation into THIS miraculous piece of decorating genius!

 

...and my favorite painting has never looked better. <3

 



An Evening Observation

I realized today why it is as if by magic that I have slipped into a very "bachelor" type of lifestyle, after starting to live alone again.  The most apparent of bachelor choices being the food I'm eating and the manner in which I prepare it.  On too many a night have I gorged on beer, Ramen and microwave eggrolls, not entirely understanding how in the known universe the eggrolls even made their way into my freezer in the first place and why I choose to devour them with such frequency.

I only realized today why this happens.

After taking a leisurely hour-and-a-half walk after work today (the sunshine is simply brilliant!), I came home to find I'd bought some groceries the night before, anticipating I would want something tasty for dinner tonight (that Pea, she knows me so well...) and, shockingly, I did want something tasty for dinner tonight.

I spent some wonderful time preparing delicious roasted broccoli, juicy savory turkey burgers, and a tangy spring mix salad with avocado, bell pepper, banana peppers, and an olive oil dressing.  Everything was done all at the same time, so the hot food was hot, the cold food was cold, and I was just beside myself with excitement.  (Food makes me very, very happy.)

I cleared a little edge on my round table that is piled (piled!) with stupid amounts of clutter.  By God, I am GOING to eat this beautiful dinner at my table tonight!  I put all the food on the table, opened my awesome windows, absorbed the gorgeous Spring air pouring in the back door, and dived in. 

Only...

An overwhelming sense of loneliness quickly set in.

This amazing meal, this spectacular breeze, a complete setting that is purely divine -- and nobody to enjoy it with.

Hmm.

And it dawned on me: putting a lot of energy into cooking a great meal isn't as fun as it could be, if you can't share it with anyone. 

Enter: frozen pot stickers, cans of tuna, and peanut butter sandwiches. 

It all makes sense now.

And while I recognize the mild inherent loneliness in eating a great meal alone, I do feel way better having eaten something healthy and homemade, rather than gross and fast-food.  Perhaps something on the Tube can be my companion for the meals to follow...

Couch Recon: Complete

I bought a couch.

It was the ugliest colored one in the store.

It was love at first sight, and now it's MINE.

Operation: Couch Reconnaissance began harmlessly doing just that -- checking out what my options are, getting a sense of what I want, etc etc.  We went to Consigned Home Furnishings (I HIGHLY recommend this store if you're looking for furniture -- every piece is unique and really cool, some stuff is new, some used, and because it's consignment if they don't sell stuff in a certain amount of time they start marking it down a LOT).  Brother went with me and we weren't fifty feet into the store when he sat on this one and said "Hey what about this one?"  I, uh, well, it's -- It's .... Kind of awesome.....?

I sat on it, and it was all over.

Nobody in their right mind ever plans to buy a GOLD couch, but what was I to do?

Love is love.

Okaaay, it actually was NOT the ugliest colored couch in the store.  The Ugly Winner by far is a two chair and couch set made of --- waaaaait for it -- BABY PINK MOHAIR.  

Did you just throw up in your mouth a little?  I did.

Home Therapy

The following items are my feelings about things:

• Dining room - LOVE it, and not just because I've never had a dining room before.  Who DOESN'T love bay windows?!
• Kitchen - warming up to it.  The size and shape is a little unfortunate, and the color of the tile makes my eyeballs bleed, but I'll get there.  I'll learn to like it soon enough.
• Refrigerator - HAAAAATE.  "Gently used" my @$$.  NOTHING fits properly.  How is this possible?  How is it possible the MILK and MAYONNAISE do not fit properly?!?
• Living room - still in progress.  I will enjoy it immensely once it's not filled with crap anymore and the ant trail is no longer stretching the length of the entire GD house to the trash can.
• Bathroom - the light pink, medium pink, dark raspberry pink, and black tile doesn't bother me as much in the bathroom than in the kitchen.  Maybe because pink makes more sense in a bathroom?  And the tub is HOOJ (well, huge for me.....) so, yeah.  Love that.
• Boudoir - FAB!  It's cool, dark, secluded... The temperature stays the most consistent of anywhere else in the house and is soothing, calm, and wonderful... I haven't slept this well in a looooong time.  YAY.

The Abode

The apartment is coming along.  Updates:

Got the dining room in some sort of order.  I was a total badass and hung FOUR curtain rods all in one evening.

Went crazy at Ikea, too, and got rugs, cups, and other miscellaneous items that make me embarrassingly giddy.

Plotting couch wrangling has commenced as well.

Bought a dishwasher (a machine, not a human) and should be arriving next week.  THAT makes me feel like a grown-up............

Mom even mentioned this place looks more "grown up" than the others and she's totally right, and I was totally thinking that before she said it.  It feels more like a little house than an apartment.

It's more exposed, has more windows, and has more traffic noise than the other place, but somehow feels more private, quiet, and secluded.  We're sleeping better, we feel better, pretty much all things are better here.

THANK GOD for blessings in disguise.

Of Home and Things

September 11, 2012

We got keys.  

Lying on the empty floor felt nice.

It still smells like paint, but it's alright.  And it's really cute.

But, it is difficult to be excited right now, for two reasons:

1. Life (read: work) is too stressful
2. Moving BLOWS

Even though it's only about a hundred feet away, it's still moving, and I still have to change my address, move the electricity, update my address with everyone and every company I'm currently in contact with, sign up for gas service, rent some dollies... A bunch of really annoying things that I'd hoped to not have to deal with for a while.

But what can I do?  Not much.  Except sit here and whine about it while eating fresh blueberries and yogurt, and making sure I jump on the fast moving train that is my recent creative rampage (crampage?).  Some of the stuff I'm working on is a little bit secret, and Susan Miller said it would behoove me right now to continue to work in "secret."  

Since she's right about almost everything, I'm going to take her advice.

Things That Make Me Feel Wealthy

Listening to a dishwasher whirring

Having a place by the front door where we can leave our shoes

Access to any food I want, at any given moment

Being able to drink coffee every day of my whole life

Being able to save a lot of money, even though I don't make a lot of money

Is 'Appreciating' the Opposite of 'Taking for Granted?'

Things that have made the biggest difference so far:

Dishwasher

So I put the dishes in it and then they end up clean?  Like I don't have to toil over a sink for hours washing dishes, wondering if they are going to be clean enough because I can't get the water hot enough nor scrub them hard enough?  Like I just put them in, push a button, and they COME OUT CLEAN?!  What kind of sorcery IS this?!

I suddenly have way more time.  And the kitchen gets clean a lot faster.

Imagine that.

Free laundry

I always thought I had an aversion to doing laundry.  Like, I really didn't like it and I didn't care if my clothes weren't that clean because it doesn't matter that much anyway, right?

WRONG.

It's because I vehemently despised PAYING $1.50 PER LOAD to do my freaking laundry, to wash things that I can't go without washing (ie: bath towels?) and having to shell out buckets of quarters to do so.

THE FUUUUURRRRRRYYYY.

Now that laundry is included in my rent, and not coin-op, I've done probably a thousand loads already.  And I fucking LOVE doing laundry.

Not kidding.

My mom is probably shitting right now.

Hah!

Windows

There's more than one window.  This is quite a luxury, if you've ever had more than one window.

I can put up more than one kind of curtain because, uh, there is more than one place to hang them.  And most important: the light is simply SPLENDID.  I've got east-facing windows and west-facing windows.  Morning light in the kitchen, afternoon light in the living room.  It's as if the universe was like, "Hey let's construct an apartment building that was made for her, and then mysteriously lead her to it through a series of mishaps and disappointments, and then she'll be deliriously happy. Won't that be fun?"

What a huge difference it makes being able to see the world.

And the universe.

Space

I think having lived in 300-ish square feet for over two and a half years has forever changed who I am.  Anything -- anything -- after living there is going to feel like I'm supremely wealthy, lucky, and blessed.

Will and I were walking around the other day, dumbfounded.

"There's... so much space..."

"I can move..."

"I can, like, walk into another room and suddenly, we're... not in the same room anymore..."

This apartment is only 600 square feet.

And it feels like a castle.

Notes of Cedar

June 16, 2012

Of late --
getting reacquainted with my books and pretty things I forgot I owned
getting to know Will's books
feeling enchanted by the newness
learning the tricky, creaky spots on the wood floors

Beautiful things await you.
-Panda Express


June 29, 2012

Radical Face Ghost - Welcome Home
Fell in love with this song, just now, not knowing what the title was.
How apt!

Drove out to Wal-Mart on 82nd to pick up some things.  Drove past all my old places, shops, restaurants I'd frequent and it made me feel sad.  Feel lots of things at once... again.  Feel a wash of memories and thoughts.  It's weird how we can have many memories at once.
They come in floods.

We never think that the first or second time 

we go somewhere or do something, 

it may be the last.

I dropped off keys and my forwarding address.  Kept myself from crying.  Very tricky, at that moment.

Will used to smudge with sage (smudge sage? I don't know the proper usage) in our old apartment.  He did it almost every night.  He did it once here in the new place and then switched to cedar.

If you've never smelled, cedar is the most wonderful, calming, soothing smell I've ever filled my nose with.  It makes me feel like I've been alive for a thousand years, some kind of ancient wisdom, an old historic sense.  Seriously.

Get some cedar.

On Serendipity and the Tyrannical Death Grip

Uhh...

So, my life is totally different now.

Once again reinforcing my feelings about the Universe and how it works.  (Yes Mom, I know that's not a complete sentence -- I did it on purpose.)  Most of it was the Tao.  Or something like the Tao.  Like once you stop wanting something, that's when you get it?

Yeah.  That's totally my life right now.

My last big post was on a very special day.  That day marked many important moments in my immediate life.  They are as follows:

1)  I Will Not Be Homeless
I realized that Worst Case Scenario in the whole apartment-slash-moving situation is not that bad.  Worst Case Scenario is Will moves into my shoe box, forcing me to throw out a bunch of old crap I never use and reorganize everything stupendously using my mad reorganizational skills, and we live merrily like we do now.  That's WORST CASE SCENARIO, PEOPLE.  We don't have to move.  We want to move.  And if we don't move, we will not be homeless.  We will merely live in a shoe box.  Not so bad.  Thus, spoiled beezie no more.

2)  I'm Skilled Enough To Do It On My Own
I realized that I do not need anybody's help finding a new place to live.  I thought that I needed an "in."  I thought I had to know somebody who owned a place or knew someone who had a place or was vacating a place or whatever in order to find what I was looking for because the market is so bad right now.  But you know what?  I'll do it on my own, dammit. If it's supposed to happen, it will, and if it's not then it won't, and I don't need to kiss anybody's patootie to get myself there. Period.

3)  I Will Not Be Defeated
I realized that I might actually >gasp< enjoy living in my shoe box with my Boy.  The thought became fun and exciting, and most of all: challenging in new and creative ways.  It became less an issue of feeling like I can't or don't want to, than one of I can and I most certainly will.  That's a fun feeling.

4)  I Will Chill The Fuck Out
In finding flecks of gold in the dog poop (or something that's like the silver lining), I  automatically loosened my tyrannical death grip on this entire situation.  I let it the fuck GO.  Or there's that other metaphor that's like ... You can't squeeze a handful of sand, because it ... Well you have to cradle it ... Or whatever.  Basically you have to let situations evolve as they will, and stop trying to control the shit out of it by wringing it to death.  I finally realized how wound up I was.  And I was finally like, "You know?  This doesn't feel good.  Screw these lame feelings."


So, in a nutshell, I stopped wanting the thing I so desperately wanted.  Because wanting it so hard wasn't getting us anywhere, and I think it created some unnecessary conflicts along the way.

This was all on that Saturday, give or take a few days of reflection and hindsight.

Fast forward to the following Monday.  I got home from work and I was really stinking tired. I start futzing around in the kitchen and the suddenly strong and overwhelming feeling to hop on Craigslist hits me in the face.  Now, this is not unusual, but this time it was distinct.  I'm on Craigslist all the time apartment hunting, why is now different than any other time I feel the urge to get on Craigslist?

So since I insisted, I got on the computer and the first posting under my search was something that appeared too good to be true (they usually are).  It was posted only ten minutes before.  Hrrmmmmm.... Suspicious.  And once I saw the pictures at the bottom I totally flipped out in panic.  Must!  Send!  Response!  Now!

I scrambled for the email in my Sent box that I send to potential rentals.  Now!  Must send NOW!

Wham bam sent DONE holy crap.  Whew.

Weird, all those crazy feelings.

Back to kitchen stuff...

Just a few hours later I get a response from someone who sounds unexpectedly normal and friendly.  It sounded like I caught her off-guard, like maybe I was the first to respond.  Showing on Saturday.  Time not worked out yet.  Would let me know.

Then the next day out of nowhere and totally unprompted, the guy who owns the building where we almost got a different apartment (but we ended up not getting by mere moments.  I eventually stopped crying about it) emailed me.  He said he might have a unit opening up at the end of the summer, and wanted to know if I'd like him to keep us in mind.  (When we didn't get the unit in his building, I think he could sense my disappointment, and asked if we wanted him to hold on to our applications, just in case.  I thought it rather nice, and said yes that would be great.  But, in reality, I didn't think that would happen.)  Lo and behold -- here he was, just days after all my spiritual revelations, and just one day after making contact with someone who seemed as normal as him.  I replied.  Yes, absolutely.

What strange timing.

A few days went by and I didn't see a follow-up email from the lady with the times for the showing.  Naturally, I remained skeptical of the whole thing.  You know, it being Craigslist and whatnot.

As soon as I sat down to inquire about it, she had already emailed me the times for the showing, not twenty minutes before and even asked if it "fit with my schedule."  Well, that's gosh darned considerate!

Again, rather strange timing.  And unusually cordial.

...

It must be a trick.  There must be something terribly, terribly wrong with this place.  Or this lady.  Three heads or no face or something.  Something.

I mailed back, said Yes Thank you Fantastic See you there, and left it at that.

I planned to go completely ready for anything.  I refused -- REFUSED -- to screw this one up like I did the last one.  Even if the apartment was a shit box, I was prepared to fork over lots of cash and all our most personal information like it was nothing.  I planned for it to be The One and was prepared for it not to be, rather than the opposite.  I even created my own rental application in Excel and had both mine and Will's filled out beforehand so I wouldn't have to worry about it.  I stalked the building thirty minutes before the scheduled start time in hopes of snagging her when she arrived, my two friends Charm and Poise on standby.

The next few hours are a blur.  I ended up being the second person to give her the application and a check.  I was nervous and anxious.  I wanted it so badly.  It turned out to be freakin' beautiful and perfect and soooo stupidly fantastic.  Goddammit, I want this place!  Fuck fuck fuck.  I was a disastrous mess on the inside but, as is typical for me, calm and witty on the outside.  The lady was so nice.  I was a wreck.  So many people viewing the apartment all at the same time.  People that look like nice normal folks who I might actually briefly entertain the idea of befriending, but who I secretly despise because we're essentially in competition.  I hate this situation!  Haaaaate!  So many complicated feelings.  So many tricky dynamics to maneuver while holding back the imminent frustration and looming disappointment.  Fuuuuuuuck.  Someone inquired about the follow-up timeline.  She said something about it being a holiday weekend so things can't be processed until Tuesday, and even then it might be a few days, so we're thinking in about a week everyone will know, etc etc etc.  Okay, so a while.  Either way, a while.  That's okay.  I can deal.  I will deal for this place.  Purely spectacular.  I'm crying on the inside.  Kill me now.

We left and went to a barbecue in Battle Ground.  I tried to contain my surging anxiety and fought to hold back the what-ifs, why-didn'ts, and coulda-shoulda-wouldas.  But being with other people helped to take ours minds off the complexity of the morning.  Ate some meat and guac, drank some beers, sat on the deck.

Ahh, yes.  This is summer...

Blazing sunshine, good classic tunes, a nice breeze, a tasty --

What the--?  A voicemail on my phone?  It didn't even ring.

That's weird.

Not two hours after leaving the showing.

"I just want to let you know that the apartment is yours, provided everything goes through.  We look forward to having you!"

As my tiny and exuberant coworker would say: SHUT THE FRONT DOOR.

I shit my pants right there, looking at Will while the message still played, staring at him wide-eyed and aghast with the phone in my hand.

"You will not believe what's going on in my ear right now."

"Who's pregnant."

"Nobody.  Guess."

"Somebody died?"

"Just throw it out there.  The craziest thing you can think of."

"...We got the apartment?"

"We got the fucking apartment."


I've been on a cloud for a week and a half.  I've drawn three floor plans already and mailed one to Ma, I'm having dreams about how I'll arrange the furniture, I've already planned the bathroom storage devices I'll purchase at Wal-Mart, and I CANNOT THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. The situation is truly unbelievable.  We looked for SIX MONTHS and it wasn't until I stopped caring did everything fall into place.  It wasn't until I let everything go and stopped being adamant and stopped insisting that things be a certain way did all the pieces fit together and feel so perfectly right.

And that's what it felt like.  Like everything was just falling naturally into place, because it was supposed to.  Not because I forced it to.

And I just CAN'T.  FREAKIN'.  WAIT!


YAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!

<3

Spring Cleaning

The weather the past few weeks has been completely idyllic.  It's kind of unbelievable for May around here.  It won't last, because it never does, but MAN has this Spring been fun so far.

Last weekend the Boy and I had a "beach" day in the park.  Meaning, we went to the park across the street, bared our pasty white Portland skin in our swimsuits, sat on a blanket, drank iced tea, read books, and pretended we were at the beach.

I was totally convinced.  The sun was warm that day, but the air was crispy and the sound of the wind blowing through the tall trees sounded exactly like a roaring ocean.  Didn't need you anyway, Oregon coast . . . 

This morning I got up and kept trying to talk myself into going outside and doing things in other places, but I actually felt like being at home.  I actually felt prepared to tackle everything I haven't been doing -- but have needed to do -- for months.  You know the stuff: sorting mail, doing dishes, shredding stuff, cleaning the floors, sorting throwaway clothing into "Goodwill" and "try to sell to snobs at Buffalo," cleaning the mold out of the shower, blah blah blah . . . 

With each to-do I completed, I felt lighter and more at ease.  I had this huge round chair that nobody sat in that took up a lot of space in this little apartment.  It just collected piles of clothing and pillows.  I was finally like "You know what?  I am so done with this stupid chair" and I made a sign that said "FREE! In good shape, needs love <3" and put it on the sidewalk.  It was gone within a few hours, and I feel SO MUCH BETTER ABOUT LIFE.  It's weird -- getting rid of things that I no longer use actually makes me feel different physically.  Like I can breathe again.

I started cleaning stuff out because the Boy is [kind of] [technically] moving in.  We started looking for a new place months ago, but his lease wasn't up until the end of May.  The plan has been if we couldn't find a place by the time his lease was up, then he'd just move in here and we'd work it out.  He basically lives here anyway, so it won't be much different.  But it means getting rid of stuff I don't need anymore, because apparently I'm really good at keeping, collecting, and stashing anything and everything.  It's not as bad as those weirdos on that hoarders show, but I certainly get stuck in the "but what if I need it later?" thought spiral.  This is the problem: if I keep something because I might need it later, then I will never need it later.  If I get rid of something because I know I will never need it later, then I most certainly do need it later and it MAKES ME SO PISSED.  Do you see how this can be a problem?  Time and time again it proves to be true.

Stupid universe.

Speaking of apartment hunting, have I told you it is turning into my worst nightmare?  I've been actively looking for a place since January -- literally, since January.  We've looked at two places, the only ones that were even remotely worthwhile and proved to not be scams.  We didn't get one of them, didn't apply for the other because it was kind of atrocious, and turned down an offer from my boss who rents a property because it's just way out of our price range. I don't remember finding housing being this difficult.  Like, ever.  

Am I being too picky?  I hope not.  This is the way I see it: I'm not going to move unless a lot of things are better than our current situation, ie: closer to jobs, more square footage, at least a little bit cute and/or funky, some decent light, a normal sized kitchen.  It will be a waste of time and money to move just because, to soon realize our situation is not much better than before.

So if you know of anyone who has a place, is leaving a place, knows somebody who knows somebody who has a place, or even someone who has a large garage or perhaps an unusually luxurious cardboard box, let me know.

All of this means I need to make some amount of peace with my current apartment.  I have spent a lot of time being mad at her, but overall she's been good to me.  I can't deny that.  So I must figure out a way to make it work for the time being.

That's what today was about.

And *this* sweet little setup lit my freakin' fire -- I find I don't usually like having my own paintings hanging up in my house, but when I did this I just about crapped.

Not only does it make the room look waaaay bigger (how?!) but these paintings make me SO FREAKIN' HAPPY.  The photos really don't do them justice, especially the one of Lo, but hanging them up like this sparked something inside me and I just feel delirious with excitement.  It's probably in part due to this vein of work I'm in right now.  These paintings express something I have been trying to express for years, and have never been able to.  I don't know what's different.  I don't know what shifted.  But something was ready to start producing paintings with this feel and I'm stoked.

I've also been daydreaming about having a place with a room to call my studio, instead of a corner.  

Me:  I'm going to rearrange the apartment and turn half of it into my studio.  Okay?

Will:  Awesome!

(I love that goofy bitch.)

I'm thinking, Why not?  Why not turn my whole dumb apartment into a big fantastic art-making lair?  Didn't do it yet today, but . . . . . . . . . . it's on my pre-To-Do To-Do.

Puttering around in my apartment today was exactly what I needed.  I feel more quiet today, and in cleaning and rearranging I did end up finding some peace with the place.  A few minor tweaks made a world of difference, and I soaked up the light and patterns and colors I'd stopped seeing after a while.

Art spaces are just messy.  No way around it.

I will never stop loving you . . . <3

I brewed some more coffee at 5pm and soaked up my handiwork.  Life's pretty good . . . I GUESS . . . 

;-)

Momma Says: Who IS this man?! I, Too, Have No Idea

Within six months, my brother went from

living alone in a shoebox struggling for work, wondering what to do with himself between sporadic stints at an ailing business, going so far as to solicit himself to complete strangers, including knocking on doors to sell himself to prostitution (okay that last part is a lie), to

getting spontaneously engaged, married 37 days later, interviewing for and scoring a new job in six days, working 115-hour weeks, barely having enough time to sleep let alone eat, wondering how his life has changed simultaneously so awesomely and so rapidly, and then, the piece de resistance: getting a HOUSE so he can FINALLY move his family here after MONTHS of working his patootie off.  (NONE of this part is a lie.)

But, you must know this is not just any house.  This house has a (really big) yard.  And a garage.  And an island in the kitchen, the size of a real island.  And a chicken coop.  And chickens!  Well, not yet, but there will be.  This house is a grown up house.  This can only mean my brother is a grown up.

Or, he is an alien inhabiting my brother's body and masquerading as a very convincing grown up.

Either way, there is still a house involved where I get to go on Saturday mornings and drink coffee, eat breakfast, and shoot the proverbial shizite.

So the house is basically the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, aside from a few other things: Fort Youngstown (of course), my freshly-birthed nephew, and Jesus coming down from the clouds on a particularly mystical summer day last year.  Well, it felt like Jesus, but it could've been someone else I suppose.

Brother and I went out to la Casa de Byrom on Saturday where he signed papers and picked up the keys.  Then the two of us, unable to peel our jaws from the floor or wipe the look of pure childlike elation from our faces, spent the afternoon running between all the rooms, figuring out precisely how many jokes we could make about his "big deck," drinking coffee, planning a wedding party, and taking photos of every conceivable crook and nanny.

Thus, what follows: a [virtual] tour of the [gigantic] abode.

Front door

WOMP.  Living room/entry way

Kitchen

(Brother really liked the kitchen.)

Dining room, to the deck

"So, how big is your deck?"

"Big decks are the only kind of decks."

"A friend of mine has a small deck, but it just doesn't get the job done."

(He really liked the deck, too.)

Come to think of it, he really liked

the master bedroom

the huge living area with fancy heater fireplace

the dining room with french doors

and the hallway.

Brother also especially adored

the Grey Room

the Yellow Room

the two-car garage

and the backyard.

Needless to say, the jacuzzi tub

Dish washer

Stackable laundry

 

and chicken coop are all just icing on the cake.  

The enormous, enormous cake.

HOORAH!

The Orange Reconciliation

Okay.  Orange is not my favorite color.  I do not daydream about painting an entire wall a juicy citrus, nor do I respond to the big O in public decorated places.  But when I see things like this

and this

I immediately start salivating.  How beautiful are these spaces??  They’re so contemporary, urban but comfortable.  I think I could easily incorporate orange into my little home, but then I’m not sure.  Will I tire of it?  Will it eventually make me want to puke?  Because even though I love these rooms and the way they use the color, I still am not a fan of the color itself.

Sadly, I’m not allowed to paint in my place, but I pondered a a pillow, throw, or lampshade.  I’ll hold off for now and pursue hues I more passionately fancy, but it’s like a little worm creeping into my thoughts every so often . . . My friend KG would call it a “Brain Ninja.”

This Week's Accomplishments, in Order of Appearance

• Executed Mom’s Famous Chili Recipe with flair and excellence.  On only the second attempt in my life I successfully combined the savory, hearty flavors of blow-your-top-off meat chili with bonafide sex appeal.  AND, as Brother so wisely informed, the gastrointestinal effects of chili become compounded over time.  I only wish I had some warning — between Bear and myself, sterilizing with flame thrower and a bucket of acid became imminent in the W.C.

BAM.

• Successfully — and by “successfully” I mean “without mishap, disaster, or crying babies” — baked corn muffins to go with hot chili.  I ate three, the Boy devoured four or five (I lost count), and the warm butter and honey were *the* perfect accompaniment.  Eat that, June Cleaver.

WOMP.

• Found The Zone for a quick minute getting lost in this pretty tree.  The first of those around my “office” building to succumb to the dipping nighttime temperatures.  I was rather swept away!

• Conquered this morning’s breakfast like a true champ, only breaking one yolk of six.  Those are much better than my previous odds.  Luckily, I was feeding barbarians who don’t eat, but merely initiate shoveling.  Plus, everything tasted so damn good one broke yolk didn’t make much difference.  Nobody cried, nobody went for the jugular, no feelings got hurt.  Just warm full bellies and an endless stream of rich roasty coffee with a gallon of half and half.  Is there anything better?  MmmmYeahNo.

<Insert gratuitous yolk joke>

• Lastly, with not aforementioned ferocious spacial reasoning skills, I wrangled my shitty computer desk into submission.  If I’ve never talked about it before, sitting — anywhere, any time, in any fashion for longer than fifteen minutes — is murdering me slowly with plaguing determination.  I was in a car accident in late March and ever since, my neck, back, and shoulders have been an utter wreck (no pun intended), and sitting sets off all forms of pain, sharp and dull, in one or all of these areas.  I’m working on getting a standing desk for work — the guy in the shop next door is building me one out of an old door — but my home desk, if you’d even call it a desk, has been an additional problem.  But voila!  A genius new setup where I can stand and blog and not regret every bit it of when I’m done.  Now THAT’S an effing victory, Son.

BOO-YAH sucker!!!

It Was Inevitable

I can't believe it took me so long to get one of these.

I am so beside myself.  And Ma's gonna freak out -- She's gonna be like, "I can't believe

it took you so long to get one of those!" and I'll be like, "I know!  How is it even possible!" 

and she'll be like, "I don't know how it's even possible!"  

I knew it was inevitable when the Boy said, "Oooo you know what sounds good?  Some mashed